


Mini Fics and Drabbles

by anticupid16



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Merlin (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Breadsticks meme, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticupid16/pseuds/anticupid16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are some random mini fics and drabbles written for various purposes and usually posted to my tumblr (morganadraconis). They're all pretty short and didn't really warrant their own fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sterek in a Bar

Derek felt that itchy feeling on the back of his neck that meant someone was staring at him and turned back to his drink. He was waiting for Boyd in some seedy bar, but Boyd was already running late. He was about to cast another sweeping look around to see if Boyd had managed to sneak in since the last time he looked when his phone vibrated in the pocket of his jacket. Reaching in, Derek saw it was a text from Erica. He unlocked the phone and saw that apparently Boyd wasn’t feeling up to a guy’s night and would be staying in. 

Sighing, he put the phone down on the bar and reached for the neck of his beer again, rolling it in his fingers and trying to weigh how much was left. Not much. He could probably leave after a few more sips. He held the bottle loosely in his fingers and tilted his head back, taking another swig. Out of habit from the last ten minutes, he glanced around the bar. And made eye contact. 

The man was beautiful in a ‘fawn of the wild’ sort of way. He had tousled brown hair and big brown eyes framed with thick lashes. His eyes were smoldering, no joke, and Derek gulped down the sip of beer that had been sitting in his mouth. The man smirked, slowly, letting his lips curve up at both corners before one corner raised just so slightly up, a corresponding eyebrow rising as well. 

The sound of a pool ball getting hit too low and bouncing over its intended target, clattering to the ground caught Derek’s attention and a reflex caused him to look over his shoulder to the man cursing loudly and picking up the ball trying to escape his grip. When Derek realized that he didn’t need to watch the pool player any longer, he turned his head back towards the gorgeous man. He was gone. 

Sighing in disappointment for the second time that night, Derek downed the last of his beer, fished out a few bucks from his wallet, and left the money on the bar, pocketing his phone and heading for the front. “Going my way?” a playful voice with the very sound of a smirk laced through it. Derek looked up, and there were those brown eyes and that delicious smirk.


	2. On Top of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a writing meme: "things we say on top of the world"

This could barely be considered hiking. Arthur had been on real hiking trips, such as the John Muir trail, with his father. This was a walking tour that Merlin had insisted on while they took their honeymoon to New Zealand. Because Merlin was a dork obsessed with the Lord of the Rings films. They were just reaching the crest of the fifth hill, and Merlin was complaining very loudly behind him that he needed a break. Again. 

“You big prat,” Merlin panted out, putting his hands on his knees when Arthur finally stopped. “Moving too fast, not drinking as much water.” 

“Drinking too much water is just as bad as not enough, and I don’t want to have to keep stopping for you to piss,” Arthur responded, stretching one of his arms over his head. 

“Can we please just stay here for a few minutes? Enjoy the view?” Arthur raised his eyebrows and looked around. From their hill, they could see the rise and fall of the nearby land, including the other four hills they’d marched up and down. It was a nice scene, he supposed, all very green grass and blue sky. But apparently Merlin saw much more there, because he whistled low and long.

“It’s like we’re on top of the world,” he said, putting his hands on his hips and grinning widely. Arthur had a comment on the tip of his tongue, one about much higher mountains in the world, but then he caught sight of Merlin’s face. His mouth was pulled wide into one of the brightest smiles Arthur had ever seen—aside from maybe the day Arthur proposed or on their wedding day—and his eyes were sparkling in the bright light. 

“Well, anything you want to say while we’re on top of the world?” Merlin laughed and spread his arms out, leaning back and shouting, 

“I’M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!” 

“Not what I had in mind,” Arthur said, but he could help but laugh along with Merlin. 

“All right, how about: I MARRIED A PRAT!” Merlin turned and smirked at Arthur, who narrowed his eyes and leaned his own head back to shout, 

“I MARRIED A CLOTPOLE!” 

“HE SAYS THAT BECAUSE HE LOVES ME!” Merlin shouted back, and Arthur reached out, grabbing Merlin’s hand and pulling him close. 

“He’s right,” Arthur whispered, leaning in to kiss his clotpole of a husband.


	3. Breadsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollstein, based on the breadsticks meme

Laura is having a terrible date. Like actually the worst date she’s ever been on. She should have known better than to actually go out with one of the Zetas, but Kirsch had kept insisting and she’d finally given in. They were at some knock off of Olive Garden, surprisingly close to campus, and right now the conversation was terrible. Laura had asked him a few questions about his interests and before the drinks and breadsticks even arrived he’d already managed to say six sexist things. 

Finally the waiter brought by their drinks and started droning on about specials, while another waitress came up silently and set a basket of breadsticks down on their table. The waiter left to give them more time to determine their food orders, and Laura finally got the chance to speak. “So what do you think of the problems with the Zetas being favored over female organizations with some of the administration?” she asked, twirling her straw in her drink and reaching for a breadstick. 

“I don’t think it’s a problem. We get favored by teachers because we’re better! I mean we’re smarter than the average girl, we’re better—“ Laura had her hand around all six of the breadsticks in the basket and was lowering them into her bag, shaking her head. 

“I’m sorry I have to go home, immediately, it’s an emergency,” she said, standing and tucking the breadsticks firmly into her purse. “I can get back myself, enjoy your dinner!” 

Quickly Laura started walking towards the entrance of the restaurant, eager to get away. She would never be able to sit through the rest of the date after that conversation. Unfortunately, just as she was about to taste sweet freedom through the front, she was stopped by a waitress. She had her black hair in a bun, and her nametag that read Carmilla was crooked. “Sorry miss, I saw you take those breadsticks. Could you come to the back with me?” 

Laura’s heart skipped a beat. How could she be getting in trouble for breadsticks? They were free! But she silently followed the waitress, trying to think of what she would say. She had money with her, how much did the breadsticks cost? She would probably be asked to pay for them, and then told not to come back. She could live with that, she wasn’t a fan of the restaurant anyways. Finally, they reached the back of the restaurant where there were three doors: two bathrooms and an Employees Only labeled door. This was the door they went through. 

It looked almost like what she imagined a break room would be. Part of the room was designated to shelves of spare condiments and napkins, the other half was a table and a few rickety chairs with a shelf beside the table that held a variety of purses and changes of clothes. “Okay, look, there’s no problem with you taking the breadsticks,” the waitress said, moving towards the shelf and dropping her nametag into a pile on the top of it. Laura gaped at her as she began pulling her bun down, and shaking the hair out. She pulled out a bag, tucked it onto her shoulder and turned back around. “The breadsticks are free, we usually go through a few baskets a table, it’s no big deal. I just thought I’d offer you a ride back to campus.” 

“Campus?” The girl raised her eyebrows. 

“You go to Silas right? I do, too. I’m Carmilla.” 

“Laura, and yeah I go to Silas. But wait, why did you--?” 

“You’re cute. I thought I’d give you a ride and my number and hope you call so we can go somewhere with rolls and steal those.”


	4. The McCall-Stilinski Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is a social worker and brings home a three-year-old Liam one day much to Stiles surprise

Scott had that face. The face that in their many years as best friends and few recent years as boyfriend Stiles had grown to know meant he’d done something he knew Stiles wouldn’t be a fan of. “Whatever it is, can it wait?” Stiles asked pleadingly, holding his hand up and gesturing to the work laid out in front of him. His very important master’s thesis that was due. In like three months, but still it was a lot of work and he knew the deadline would creep up on him. 

“Um, no, it really can’t,” Scott said, nodding his head towards the living room of their apartment to indicate that Stiles should follow him. Knowing that he would regret it and probably be too mad to work at all that night, Stiles closed his books and shoved his papers back into the satchel he used to organize them before following his boyfriend, whom he had to remind himself he loved, to the living room. 

“There is a child on our couch,” Stiles stated, staring in shock. It was a three year old boy with shaggy dirty blond hair and light blue eyes. The kid looked up shyly, a small smile on its face. “Why is there a child on our couch,” Stiles asked, his voice bordering on angry as he looked up to see Scott picking the kid up like an expert. 

“Stiles, this is Liam. Liam is the boy we had to pick up today at work and they needed someone to take care of him for a few days until we find him a home to stay in. It’s temporary, he’ll stay in the guest room, I’ve got all the stuff he needs.” 

Stiles had known that Scott would probably have to bring a kid home one day. He was a social worker, it came with the job, but still. “Scott,” he groaned, but Scott was smiling down at the boy, who was clinging to Scott’s shirt and looking at him like he was the only good thing left in the world. Of course, the poor kid had just been taken from his parents so Scott was probably the closet thing to reassurance he had. 

“Fine,” Stiles said in defeat, moving towards the kitchen. “Does Liam like pizza? Because that’s what we’re getting for dinner.” 

After they’d put the kid to bed, who was tuckered out and full, Stiles and Scott had sat up with a couple of beers to discuss the whole thing. “It’s just until we find a home for him. This was an unexpected move, we were hoping it wouldn’t come to this but circumstances changed. He had nowhere to go.” 

“I get that, and I feel sorry for the kid, I really do. But Scott, we don’t have the money or the space for a child. I don’t know what three year olds eat. You’re going to have to go to work tomorrow—“ 

“I have time off until we sort this out, so I can take care of him.” 

“Okay, reasonable, but… He really needs to find a home soon.” 

“I told you, we’re working on it.” 

So Scott stayed home with Stiles and Liam for the next three days, before he took Liam back to work. And then home again. They were having trouble finding a home that could take him that was in Beacon Hills, since they were hoping to keep Scott on the case as well as keep Liam close to home in case they could return custody to his parents. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. After a year, Scott sat Stiles down and told him that his boss wanted to make Scott the foster home. It was a short application, Scott had connections to get it passed through quickly, it would be just the one child. They’d have all the help of Scott’s coworkers. 

Stiles had agreed, to everyone’s surprise. What could he say, the kid had grown on him. Since Stiles spent all day at home working on his thesis, and later waiting around for it to be approved, he often took care of Liam. They were working their way through a game of Donkey Kong, he’d taught Liam Crazy Eights, he’d learned that Liam’s favorite books to be read out loud from were Harry Potter. So foster parents they became. 

As soon as the paperwork was official, Scott and Stiles invited Melissa and the Sheriff to meet their foster grandson. Both were overjoyed, unsurprised, and absolutely doting towards Liam who took to them like a duck to water. His big blue eyes were perfect for coaxing homemade cookies out of Melissa, and the Sheriff let him play with the sirens when he took him on a short ride around the block for fun. They adopted Liam eight months later. 

When Liam was old enough to go to school, Scott applied for a job at the Beacon Hills high, where he would be using his Masters to teach AP Chemistry and Pre-Calc. The hours were best for taking care of Liam, since Scott was still throwing himself into his own job. 

Saturdays and holidays were completely for family, a tradition that extended even into Liam’s preteen rebellion stage (in which he’d dyed his hair blue giving Scott a heart attack and Stiles a laughing one). They’d visited every park in Beacon Hills, driven out to LA for concerts, visited Hollywood for cheesy tours, and once for the summer Scott had gotten a whole month of vacation time and the three had driven to Seattle. 

They let Liam adopt a dog when he turned thirteen, a year after they’d moved from their apartment into a house with a backyard. Stiles built the fence that would let the dog and Liam tumble in the grass outside without worrying about the dog—so creatively named Wolf—running off. They were only about five minutes from where they’d grown up, which meant that Melissa came over to drop off cookies and hugs whenever she got off an early shift and the Sheriff was over to grill at least once a month. 

When Lydia moved back to Beacon Hills for a year, some family issue, she’d met the boy she’d seen pictures and videos of for fourteen years and declared him adorable (he bragged to all his friends that Lydia Martin, whose picture hung in the Beacon Hills hallway as a notable alumni, had called him hot) and from that point on sent outrageously nice gifts. After all, a social worker and a high school teacher could afford healthy food and new clothes when needed but not the most expensive gadgets on the market. 

They’d been the most embarrassing parents for Liam’s prom, which he went to stag. They’d insisted on taking pictures of him with all his friends, on his own, dressed up, with his coat flung over his shoulder, with his sunglasses on, popping up out of the sun roof of the limo, etc. 

Stiles had most certainly not cried when Liam McCall (hyphenating with Stilinski would have been too cruel) had walked across his graduation stage and claimed his diploma. He also did not insist on staying an extra two hours at Berkeley when they dropped Liam off for his first year, just in case he called and said he missed his dads. 

So when Liam was a sophomore in college and Scott came home with that face again, papers in his hand and a five year old girl named Erica clutching his hand, Stiles didn’t do anything but welcome the kid with a hug and one of Melissa’s cookies.


End file.
